


Something Out of Nothing

by stoplightglow



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Translation Available, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24916492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stoplightglow/pseuds/stoplightglow
Summary: The one where Frank and Gerard use the darkroom at SVA.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 22
Kudos: 114





	Something Out of Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> i'm in the middle of writing angsty things and had to take a break for some self-indulgent fluff. please enjoy <3
> 
> translation into русский by scorpions available [here!](https://ficbook.net/readfic/9755852)

“Woah,” Frank says as Gerard hits the switch and the fluorescents on the ceiling flicker out, leaving the room draped in the burning orange of safelights. “It’s like another planet in here.”

“Mars,” agrees Gerard. He flips the next switch and the mechanics in the room awaken. With a gurgle, fresh water starts to circulate in the wash basin, and the chemical filter rumbles like distant thunder. Gerard loves those sounds. They bring him down, make him feel like a part of a bigger machine. 

“The hell was that?” Frank asks, peering around suspiciously. Okay, so maybe not everyone is a fan. 

“Just everything starting up. Don’t worry.” Gerard kisses the top of Frank’s head, then goes to set up an enlarger. “Can you check and see if the chemical trays are full?”

“Sure.” After locating the trays, Frank slinks off to the other side of the darkroom. Gerard shamelessly watches his boxy hips swing. “They’re all good.” A pause. “Ew, this middle one reeks like feet.”

“Yeah, stop bath is basically just diluted acid.” Gerard catches Frank around the waist as he comes back over, and Frank leans into him easily, kissing the underside of his jaw. “You get used to it.”

“As long as you don’t start smelling like that,” Frank mutters. “You would totally not get laid.”

“Really?” Gerard turns his head to ghost his teeth over Frank’s neck, satisfied when Frank’s breath hitches. “Are you sure?”

“I thought we came in here to print photos, not hook up.” Frank twists a bit in his grasp, turning so their eyes meet. Instinctively, Gerard resettles his hands in Frank’s belt loops. 

“It’s your fault for being so distracting.”

“I’m not saying I’m opposed. I just didn’t bring a condom.” 

But Gerard has one in his wallet.  _ No.  _ He shakes his head at himself and refocuses, glad Frank can’t see his blush in the low light. “That’s irresponsible use of the darkroom.”

A smirk unfolds on Frank’s face, his lip ring glinting. It takes some serious willpower for Gerard to not to give into it. But they only have the place rented for an hour, and if he’s going to help Frank print all the frames he wants, they need to get started.

Speaking of which, “Are you sure you don’t want to make a contact sheet?”

Frank is so used to Gerard’s unaligned thoughts that he doesn’t even blink. “No, I know which ones I want.” There’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, and Gerard doesn’t think it’s just an effect of the lights.

Gathering a cardboard strip and photo paper, Gerard adjusts the enlarger lamp and slides Frank’s film into place. At first, it’s unclear what he’s looking at; he twists the focus knob, and slowly the image of a guitar neck comes into view.

“That’s actually not a bad angle,” Gerard has to admit. 

“That’s ‘cause I’m a natural,” Frank says into his ear, chin hooked over Gerard’s shoulder to watch the process. His warm breath raises goosebumps on the back of Gerard’s neck.

“You want to move the cardboard as you make exposures, like this.” Gerard flips on the enlarger and the light beams down for one second before switching off. He slides the old piece of cereal box down an increment and starts the enlarger again. “So each of your sections has a different exposure time and you can compare them. That make sense?”

Humming agreeably, Frank wedges himself between Gerard and the equipment so he can try. Gerard helps him through it and then hovers around him while he processes the test print through the trays. The chemicals are the most self-explanatory part of printing photos, but there’s still a lot of room for error. 

“How long in the smelly one?” Frank asks as he drags the paper out of the developer and into the stop bath. 

“Thirty seconds. Make sure you agitate it.”

Nodding, Frank starts to rock the tray back and forth. Gerard stays silent, letting him count in his head. Once the thirty seconds are up, he grabs his strip of paper with the tongs and moves it to the fixer, shooting Gerard a little smile over his shoulder as he does so. Gerard’s heart swells. 

They crowd together under a safelight once the test print is out of the wash. Gerard squints at the shades of black and white. “Twelve seconds looks good to me.”

“Hm, really? I like fourteen. It’s moodier.”

“Such a tortured artist.” Gerard draws out the words obnoxiously, and Frank retaliates by ducking his head to bite Gerard’s earlobe. Gerard’s train of thought scatters like a broken strand of pearls. “Unfair,” he breathes out.

“Why don’t you show me how to make a bigger print?” Frank says innocently. Fucking tease.

Unable to think up a retort, Gerard drags Frank back to the enlarger and helps him make a five by seven. Frank sets the timer to thirteen seconds, a quiet little compromise. His face lights up as the print comes out of the wash. He looks at it from different angles under the safelights so the paper’s gloss ripples. Gerard gets it; it still feels magical to him to make a print, to watch a blank page come to life. It’s all the hands-on things he loves about painting, but so much faster.

“What frame are we doing next?” he asks as Frank drops the print on the drying rack.

“Six,” says Frank, so Gerard swaps out the strip of film in the carrier. Frank has mostly caught on to how to find the right knobs in the dark to adjust the light’s height and focus, and it’s only a few minutes before they’re staring down at a projected image of Hambone holding a Solo cup between his teeth.

Gerard stifles a laugh. “When was this?” Now that he looks closer, he can see Shaun in the background with— “Is Shaun wearing a cowboy hat?”

“Last weekend after Pencey’s show. And yeah, he got it off some girl.” Flipping on the enlarger’s light, Frank starts to make another test print, looking back at Gerard to make sure he’s doing it right. After nodding his confirmation, Gerard drops a hand to Frank’s waist and grins against his hair. It’s stupid, but there’s just something special about having Frank here, on his campus, in this tiny room where they are creating something out of nothing.

Frank spins a hundred and eighty degrees so Gerard can see that his face is all scrunched up. “I should make two copies of this, Hambone will probably want one. Can I do that?”

“Just run everything the same way after you finish with this one.” Gerard can’t help himself, he reaches forward to smooth out the creases on Frank’s forehead. Frank uses the proximity to kiss Gerard’s wrist and send electricity shooting up his arm.

After Frank finishes with Hambone’s copy, Gerard goes to set up the next frame for him, but Frank tucks his fingers under Gerard’s belt and leads him away towards the drying rack. “What?” Gerard asks. 

“I’ve got this one.” Disappointingly, Frank pulls his hands back. “I can do it alone.”

“What is it?”

Frank turns on his heel and heads for the enlarger, but Gerard catches a glimpse of a cheeky grin. “That’s a surprise.”

Though it’s so tempting to sneak up and look over Frank’s shoulder, Gerard obediently stays put, watching the orange light and shadows drape over Frank as he works. He really is beautiful, even from the back. Hot as hell, too, low-slung jeans exposing a strip of skin as he leans over and his shirt rides up.

Making a print is usually about a ten minute process for Gerard, so he suspects about fifteen minutes pass before Frank plucks his photo out of the wash. Gerard tries to peek at it, but Frank keeps it faced the opposite way until he’s standing right in front of him. Then he flips it.

It’s a photo of Gerard sitting on Frank’s dorm bed at Rutgers, morning light streaking across the composition and highlighting the profile of his face. A cup of coffee is cradled in his hands. He’s naked except for Frank’s sheets pooled at his waist, and his hair is a total rat’s nest. Sex hair.

It’s so intimate for obvious reasons, but even beyond that, it’s like — he’s looking at himself the way Frank sees him. Messy and drenched in sunlight. 

The thought makes Gerard’s mouth dry. “I don’t remember you taking this.”

“No, you were pretty out of it that morning.” Frank doesn’t even bother keeping the smugness out of his voice.

Gerard can’t take it for another second; he steals the print from Frank and shoves it onto the drying rack. Frank’s eyes widen and he opens his mouth, but Gerard shuts him up, balling up the front of his shirt and pulling him into a hot kiss.

Groaning against Gerard’s mouth, Frank kisses back. Gerard wraps his arms around his waist and Frank melts into them. He parts his lips and lets Gerard lick into his mouth, and he tastes like smoke and sugar and heaven, he always does.

“Inappropriate use of the darkroom,” Frank gasps out. 

“Motherfucker,” Gerard says against Frank’s mouth, walking him backward towards the darkroom door without letting go. He nips at Frank’s bottom lip when he halts, urging him to keep moving, but Frank ultimately pulls away. Gerard looks at him carefully, trying to figure out what the holdup is.

“What about my prints and film?” Frank’s chest heaves where it’s pressed against Gerard’s.

“We’ll come back for those,” Gerard promises, leaning down to kiss him quickly. “Right now, I need you in my bed.”

When Gerard leans back, Frank’s eyes are glittering, and he realizes that was maybe Frank’s plan all along. 


End file.
